


Are You Silent Destruction (Masking Your Pain)

by TwoLeaf



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Compliant, Darksparks Heals The Soul, Did I Mention Angst?, F/F, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoLeaf/pseuds/TwoLeaf
Summary: Suffering from acute memory loss and having almost drowned, Wraith finds herself being thrown into the, now ruined, apartment of a poor unsuspecting soul. Vowing to uncover the truth of her past (and possible future) Wraith sets out on a mission that could change the fate of her reality as she knows it.Except, that poor unsuspecting soul was Natalie Paquette and she is pissed.Or the "Canon meets Modern AU" no one asked for.
Relationships: Wattson | Natalie Paquette/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Are You Silent Destruction (Masking Your Pain)

Water begins to spill into Wraith’s lungs as she screams. With each habitual breath, the water anchors itself deep within her. Demanding she atone for their pain; her lungs command a fire from within them that claws its way up her throat.   
  


Around her, the atramentous water struggles to keep her suspended in its form. Faint glints of crimson leak from various gashes across her body, her blood forms fragile ribbons in the water, only to be dispersed by flailing arms.  
  


She struggles against the water as it encompasses her, desperately trying to fight the inevitable as the corners of her eyes grow dark. Before her, oxygen escapes in the form of scattered bubbles in the large expanse of nothingness.   
  


_She is afraid_.   
  


The dulled pain behind her eyes threatens to overtake her as she sinks lower. Above her, distant lights glitter along the surface, offering nothing further than a sight for the dying legend to accept as her final moments.   
  


_How had it come to this?  
  
_

The quiet thought breaks through the legend’s panicked ones. The dull pain grows more malevolent as Wraith tries in vain to remember the hours that led to this.   
  


There is nothing.   
  


Nothing approaches the forefront of her mind as she searches for an answer. If there had been moments before this, the memory of them lay trapped in the darkest reaches of Wraith’s mind, untouched and unmoving.  
  


**_Air, now.  
  
_ **

The sudden voices fail to startle Wraith. Their familiarity softens their invasion of her inner reflection. There are many at once, identical in range, commanding her to surface as she desperately tries to obey.   
  


They ignite a fragile recollection deep within Wraith’s consciousness; the sound of laughter accompanied by various others responding in kind.  
  


A memory.  
  


A delicate memory now teeters at the edge of remembrance.   
  


Wraith can hear them clearly now, the voices of those who laugh in unison with those now demanding that she ascend . Fighting the desire to draw in a breath, the legend rises higher and higher.   
  


_“Hey! I wasn’t_ **_that_ ** _bad. More like… Half bad... Which is still half good!”  
  
_

The voices comfort Wraith during her ascent. The fire from her lungs now tears through her entire body, threatening to consume her whole.  
  


_“Relax amigo, Che and I carried you to victory-”  
  
_

The surface, now an arms reach away from Wraith, taunts her with its glittering visage. Her body threatens to give up with each push yet Wraith persists, fueled by the comforting remnants of a memory.   
  


_“-if you count me carrying your banner!”  
  
_

The chorus of laughter to follow breaks the sound of her breaching the water’s surface, gasping for breath.   
  


The laughter fades as Wraith struggles to regain control of her limbs, which refuse to tread the lukewarm water in their fatigue. Using what little adrenaline remained she pushes her legs up, to lay with her back on the water’s surface.   
  


The sky is lit with countless stars, ones the legend cannot recall. Despite the faint glow of a forgotten sangria sun, at what Wraith assumes to be the water’s edge, the water and horizon bleed into one. A continuous dark void, lit only by the stars and the setting sun.  
  


She inhales.  
  


Deeply.  
  


The agony of it is partially forgotten as the fire dispels itself back in her lungs, leaving the slight sting of saline crystals in her nose.   
  


She inhales again, slower as to save her fatigued body the trouble of expanding. Wraith feels her eyes closing of their own volition, betraying her desire to stay awake. Her head dips below the water's surface.  
  


**_Wake up._  
  
**

The voices sound distant as if they had to travel through the crashing waves to reach her. She tries to obey them. Her body begins to burn in the fight against the fatigue but her arms betray her as they begin to move lethargically in the water.

  
_This is how it ends.  
  
_

Her body sinks lower as the water welcomes her return.  
  


**_Wake up, Wraith._  
  
**

Wraith is consumed by the seemingly opaque water, making no sound as she descends further into familiar depths. Her desire to fight is dissolved, making her body almost weightless as she is dragged deeper in.   
  


This time, there is no screaming and she is no longer afraid.  
  


_This is how it ends.  
  
_

Below her, between the slowly dispersing ribbons of blood, a faint haze of violet light illuminates the dying legends back. From within it a steady hum emerges, breaking the calming sounds of nothingness.   
  


The halo of purple light begins to pull water violently into it. Wraith’s eyes open, fatigue forgotten as her body is painfully yanked lower. She tries to fight it, she desperately claws at the hollow expanse around her, anything to stop her from being swallowed by the awaiting maw of violet light.   
  


**_Stop._  
  
**

She refuses.   
  


So she fights. Peaceful death forgotten. Her eyes open to the salt water, accepting the familiar sting as she turns to face her demise.  
  


She sees the light, at its epicenter rests the visage of a beautifully lit living room, with a horrendously soaked couch.   
  


_Wait, what?  
  
_

She tries to back pedal, but the force is far stronger than her desire for buoyancy.   
  


The light draws her in before vanishing completely.   
  


* * *

Reality comes crashing back to Natalie Paquette as she stands, emotionless, in a clinically lit pharmacy. Above her, a fluorescent bulb creates a small spectacle of irregular buzzing and flickering. It does nothing to calm her sudden migraine.   
  


She realises she has failed to move from her spot in the past ten minutes. Her aisle is barren aside from the young clerk who has been lingering to offer some assistance. He busies himself with stocking the shelves, stealing glances her way before hastily turning back to the boxes of Tylenol.   
  


She knows he is staring at her scar. Most people do. She pities them, in a way, seeing them jump hurdles to make it appear as if they were not looking seems tiresome.   
  


“May I help you, Miss?”   
  


He appears next to her, a box of medication under his arm. Up close she can smell his overuse of body spray, the smell is nauseating.  
  


“ _Non_ , I am just looking-”  
  


“You sure? You’ve been here for a while, Miss, and it’s getting late. Helping you won’t be a bother.’”  
  


Natalie feigns a laugh, moreso to ease her own anxieties than the clerk’s. He smiles, as if let in on an inside joke, and readjusts the box under his arm.  
  


“ _Oui_ , I am just going to get this,” She reaches forward and grabs a random box off the shelf, “and go. _Merci_.”   
  


She leaves him standing there, smiling dumbly at the space she was before he realises she has left. He shouts something unrecognisable behind her, something she assumes is slang, before returning to his job of stacking the shelves.   
  


The store is empty aside from a security guard, the clerk and a receptionist who greets Natalie warmly. Their conversation is light, merely pleasantries to end the day with. Natalie fails to remember what was said as she leaves the store.   
  


Her walk home is even more forgettable. Between leaving the store and reaching her apartment door, she barely recalls anything aside from the smell of the city and the sound of indistinct chatter of passersby.  
  


She reaches for her keys, worries forgotten as the comfort of returning home begins to dawn on the scientist. She finds the right key, marked by turquoise nail polish, and gently guides it into the keyhole.   
  


_The battle has begun.  
  
_

Despite having sent _several_ requests to management to fix her door, her emails have been ignored. Instead she is left to fight with her door to enter her own apartment. Anger management be damned, Natalie has some choice words for that short balding _-  
  
_

The door opens without hassle. It glides open effortlessly, as if the gods themselves had decided to take pity on a small scientific heathen. Natalie feels the urge to laugh maniacally due to the shock, and it almost becomes a reality as her eyes lay witness to the absolute _state_ of her apartment.  
  


There is water everywhere. The sunlight glitters off the wet wooden floor as if to say: _try and get your deposit back now_. Somewhere, in where Natalie assumes is her kitchen, the small cleaning robot whirls as it tries to do what it was created for, clearly in vain by the sound of it.   
  


She creeps into her loft, assessing the damages as she does. The water seems to have only barely reached her neatly placed shoes at the door. She runs her hands through her various hanging coats and jackets; all dry. She stops to take off her sneakers and socks and finds the wood is cold underfoot, the heating must have cut to prevent water damage.   
  


Natalie sighs into her empty apartment. Management is never going to fix her door now.  
  


She creeps further in, still holding the random medication from the pharmacy. The apartment is dark, aside from the soft amber light that spills in from the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the Solace City.  
  


The small robot comes whirling passed, frantically sucking up any water in its way.   
  


Natalie jumps at its sudden appearance, and turns to greet it before noticing the light catch on her living room set up. Her couch, the one her friends had helped carry from the first floor during her first year of University, is in ruin. It’s cream colouring now a sodden grey due to its clear absorption of water.   
  


And on her coffee table, draped in golden light, is a body.   
  


A very real, _unmoving_ body.  
  


So, as a woman of science and intelligence, Natalie acts with as much grace befitting the situation.   
  


She hurls her recently procured medication at the motionless body in her living room.  
  


And it groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone get that small robot a raise. 
> 
> Kudos and comments welcome, thank you for reading!


End file.
